


A Time of Mourning

by pat_t



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 12:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17022816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pat_t/pseuds/pat_t
Summary: After years of losing his lovers, Duncan finally got his "happy ever after". But, everything comes to an end. A friend is never far away with his love and caring.





	A Time of Mourning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Banbury](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banbury/gifts).



> I owe a great deal to my gentle and patient beta, elistaire. All mistakes are my own.

(2086)

The leaves had already started to turn as a cool breeze rustled them with a whisper of the upcoming approach of winter. Duncan MacLeod had spent the morning chopping wood and piling it safely on a homemade rack where it would stay dry during the cold weather months. 

It was a mindless task he needed to help rid himself of recent memories. Retreating to his cabin had been his usual response to immense emotional pain and loss ever since he built it in 1872 after Little Deer and her son Kahani were slaughtered with the rest of the Lakota Sioux tribe. He was in love and he was happy, yet it only took one swift act of brutality to destroy his future as a husband and father. 

At the time his teacher and mentor, Connor MacLeod, had accused him of hiding from the Game. But he had no intention of hiding. He needed the time to put the past behind him so he could begin to heal. 

He thought the peace and calm of the cabin would help clear his mind and lessen the pain. But even as he chopped wood for the fireplace, he couldn’t stop the memories from flooding his mind: long chestnut brown hair, deep green eyes that seemed to see through to his soul and a smile that lit up the room. 

For years he had believed the curse that he would never have a wife. When he lost Deborah, Little Deer, and Tessa, three of his greatest loves, he thought it could never happen for him. But that was before he met Alana, a woman from his own beloved Highlands of Scotland. In Gaelic her name meant "beautiful". That was appropriate for the woman he fell in love with seventy-one years ago in New York at a convention for antique dealers. He knew instantly they were meant to be together. He was even more intrigued when she told him she was an author doing research for a new novel she was working on. He was more than happy to help answer all her questions and readily volunteered to be her official consult for the book. 

She must have felt the same pull towards him. By the end of the convention they had already planned to meet at her home in Glenfinnan, Scotland, his own home where he grew up, preparing to become his clan's chieftain before his death and subsequent revival as an Immortal in 1622.

Even though he knew they were meant to be together, he admittedly entered their relationship with trepidation. He still had to deal with his immortality as well as the gypsy curse bestowed on him over a century ago. His first hurdle had been telling her the truth about his immortality. He knew she might not be able to accept his lifestyle, the danger, and most importantly, his inability to father a child. 

In fact, his sterility was the one thing that made him the most nervous since many of the women he met wanted a family. It was also the one thing that almost destroyed their relationship. In the past he had always been upfront before starting a relationship, but for the first time he put off telling her while he tried to ascertain her feelings about having a child. He was shocked when she broke off the relationship because his probing gave her the impression that he wanted to start a family. As it turned out, she went on several archaeology evacuations as research for the protagonist in her novels and she had no plans to start a family. 

Once he told her the truth, he was shocked when she readily accepted him and his life for what he was. 

He’d never forget that day when he showed up at her door with a box of two dozen red roses and an apology on his lips. His throat had been tight, and he was sure he could hear his heart pounding when she answered the door. She was kind and thoughtfully took the roses as a peace offering before carefully explaining to him why she had broken off their relationship. 

He had breathed a sigh of relief when she told him they were incompatible because he wanted children, but that was quickly squashed when he remembered he still had to tell her about his immortality. He had thought carefully about what he would say to her. He still recalled when he forced Tessa to shoot him in order to prove he couldn’t die. Despite her promise not to call for help, Tessa had reached for the phone, determined to save him in a moment of crisis. Maybe he could do something less dramatic this time. 

Gaining his voice – along with his courage – he sat down beside her on the couch and took her hands in his. With his heart pounding and his mouth dry, he told her, knowing she probably would think he was insane. This time he was more prepared, or so he hoped. Stopping her words – which he knew would be utter disbelief – he took out a knife and slit open his palm. Her eyes were huge, and her face paled as his quickening energy healed the wound within seconds. 

But it only took moments for her to compose herself. She got up and retrieved a wet washcloth to wipe away the blood. Then, placing the washcloth carefully aside, she sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

Her voice was soft when she kissed him on the forehead and told him she didn’t understand everything yet, but she accepted him and all he had to offer. “Duncan, my research and my writing has always been my dream. I never saw myself with a child, and honestly, I thought I would never find a man who would accept me for that. Finding you and loving you, that’s all I need.” 

He fell more deeply in love with her with each passing day.

He wanted to keep a home in Paris, although he no longer had the barge. They bought a condo in the heart of the city where they lived for a decade every thirty years. Between their visits they rented it out while a real estate company handled the leases and upkeep while they weren’t there. They rotated living at the condo in Paris with their home in Glenfinnan. They were in Scotland during her last days, and he was glad he was able to take her to the home she loved. 

One thing that never changed was the fear of his lover growing older while he continued to look the same. He could still remember Tessa's words from over a century ago, “Maybe I want someone I can grow old with." He knew Alana had to come to terms with the same thoughts when they discussed their future and the changes she would have to deal with if they stayed together. 

They talked about her doubts often before they made the decision to marry. His own worry was that she accepted the possibility while they both looked the same age, but would she feel the same as the years passed and she grew older? As he feared, the topic came up frequently with each birthday, as the years accumulated, and he had to introduce her first as his wife, then his mother, and finally toward the end, as his grandmother. 

But his love for her never changed. He never thought of her as anyone other than his beautiful wife every day they were together. He had been lucky. Connor had remained with his first wife, Heather, until she grew old and died in his arms. Connor’s feelings for her never changed as she aged, and he still loved her to this day. Connor was there for them both with understanding and support until the very end. 

Alana was ninety-three when she closed her eyes and passed away in his arms one night while they slept. Duncan had a hard time as he grieved, trying desperately to keep his emotions in check, finally retreating to his cabin once she had been laid to rest at the cemetery near their second home in Glenfinnan. 

Now, he wiped his hands on his jeans and went inside, the fire already crackling in the fireplace to take the chill out of the air. He went over to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of single malt whiskey and poured a small amount into a glass, making an effort to drink modest amounts while he mourned. The last thing he needed was to try to dull his pain with alcohol. That would lead him down a road he didn't want to travel. 

He sat down on the couch and took a sip, then placed the glass on the small end table beside his seat. It was then that he felt it -- a strong strum of presence that touched every nerve ending and filled him with adrenaline, alerting him of impending danger. Then he relaxed and smiled. He knew he was on holy ground and had nothing to fear. But, more importantly, he recognized the presence approaching his home. 

He stood up and went to the door, opening it before his visitor could knock. "Don't tell me. 'Candy gram,'" he said with a chuckle. 

"That's old news, Mac," Methos said dryly while brushing Duncan aside so he could enter with his backpack and black duffel bag. 

“Come on in,” Duncan said while pushing the door shut. He went to the liquor cabinet and poured his guest a shot of whiskey. He handed the glass to Methos, then joined him on the couch. “To what can I attribute this visit? Not that you’re not welcome,” Duncan said while raising his glass in a salute to his friend.

Methos took a sip and settled back in his seat. “I thought you could use the company,” he answered softly. 

Duncan assessed his friend. He knew Methos was sincere. He hadn’t seen him since the funeral, but Methos knew where he would be so Duncan wasn’t surprised that he followed him to his sanctuary. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Duncan answered honestly. In truth he was happy to see Methos. They had been friends and some-time lovers for almost a century. 

Methos appeared to be studying him but Duncan didn’t mind. He knew he would be doing the same if their positions had been reversed. He must have been satisfied because Methos appeared to relax. 

“Do I pass muster?” Duncan asked with a smile. 

“Yes, I think you do.” 

Duncan turned away to pick up his glass of whiskey. He took a larger amount than he intended and coughed as it went down. Methos patted him forcibly on his back until he was able to swallow the rest of it. 

“I didn’t mean for you to get all choked up, Mac,” Methos said with a grin. 

“I didn’t,” Duncan responded with one last cough. “I just….” He indicated his now empty glass with a sweep of his hand. 

“I know,” Methos said more seriously. Sadly. “Can I get you another?” Methos offered.

“No.” Duncan shook his head. “I think that’s enough.” 

Methos got up and walked toward the kitchen. “Have you eaten?” 

“I ate breakfast.” Duncan looked at his watch. Damn. It was five-thirty. He had worked through lunch. “I was chopping wood. I guess the time got away from me.” 

Methos looked back at him, assessing once again, then silently went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “At least you have it stocked. I’m proud of you.”

If it had been anyone else Duncan would have been insulted. But he knew Methos cared and his concern was welcome. Honestly, as much as he had longed to be alone, he needed Methos’ company right now. 

He got up and met his friend in the kitchen. Methos had already taken out carrots, onions and potatoes and had them on the cutting board ready to chop up while he searched for a knife. Duncan went to the drawer, pulled out a paring knife and handed it to him. While Methos began peeling the carrots, Duncan pulled out a roasting pan from an overhead cabinet. A press of the digital display, and the oven preset to the appropriate temperature.

He noticed a smirk from Methos and sighed, aware of his friend’s propensity to lecture Duncan on not taking full advantage of new technology. “Still not ready to move into this century, Mac? They make voice activated appliances now, you know.”

“I’m aware of that, Methos. You don’t have to remind me every time you visit. I’m just not ready to bring internet to the island yet.” 

Methos shrugged, surprising Duncan by how easily he let it go – this time. 

They continued to work in amicable silence while Duncan helped Methos finish peeling the potatoes. Once the vegetables were added, the roast was ready to cook. “It will take a while before it’s ready to eat,” Duncan said unnecessarily. 

“I know,” Methos responded. “It will give us time to talk.”

Duncan nodded and led Methos back to the couch, then went to his bedroom to retrieve a box he had set aside earlier. He brought it back into the living room and placed it on the coffee table. He pulled off the lid and put it aside. He had intended to go through the pictures earlier, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to face them yet. With Methos by his side he felt strong enough to look at them, even if he had to use his friend’s strength to do so.

He picked out a few and spread them out on the table. Him and Alana at the convention when they first met. She was so young and vibrant then. He looked at each picture, handing it off to Methos once he had the memory clearly etched in his mind. 

Methos looked at each one, some he remembered, and others were new to him since he had only seen the couple on occasion when they were in the same city. Duncan knew Methos didn’t mind giving him as much time as he needed to go through the box, especially when he came upon their wedding pictures. He had a hard time putting them aside. Sometimes he told Methos a story about a picture that was particularly meaningful to him, not caring if he received a response in return. Usually Methos did respond, and for some reason, he always said the right thing. Methos knew Duncan well, a fact that he had never appreciated as much as he did now. 

He followed the story of their life together, the pictures a reminder when she began to age. He could always tell when they were in front of people who didn’t know them well. Since they were pretending to be mother and son, and later grandmother and grandson, their body language was different as they had to hide their true relationship. When he was with his immortal friends their smiles were sincere as they touched each other tenderly and lovingly. 

Methos was one of those friends Duncan and Alana both loved and welcomed when he dropped in. Even though Alana knew of their history, she was never jealous. Instead, she cared for Methos and valued his friendship almost as much as Duncan did. Even Amanda was welcome in their home with love and caring. 

His lack of candor about starting a family taught him a lesson, and he knew it would be best to be truthful about his past relationships with both Methos and Amanda. While Alana never said anything about his former lovers while they planned their wedding, he was happy when she added their names to the guest list. He had wanted to ask them, but he didn’t want her to feel obligated if their presence made her uneasy. The fact that she cared enough to include them meant a lot. 

Over the years of their marriage she always tried to include them, even inviting Methos to join them in Israel during an archeological evacuation she and Duncan were a part of. Alana thought it was funny when Methos told them that some of the things they recovered might be his. 

While Alana had only laughed, Methos' assertion piqued Duncan's interest. "Have you been to Israel?" he asked.

"I've been many places, MacLeod," Methos answered with a shrug. 

"That's no answer, Methos." Duncan shook his head while his friend looked entirely too amused, but he decided to let the subject drop for the moment. He would get the story out of Methos during their trip -- one way or another. It was a sign of Methos’ trust in his wife that he allowed Duncan to tell her the truth about his real age. It was something Duncan never expected from his friend. But it was proof of Methos’ loyalty that he knew she would keep the knowledge safe. 

Having Duncan’s friends close kept his family intact, a fact Alana seemed to realize and enjoy. Admittedly, he was a little worried when Amanda visited the first time. Initially, he was concerned about the things Amanda might tell Alana regarding their past together. He remembered how jealous she had been of Tessa when they first met. But it didn’t take long for Alana to win Amanda over, and their shopping trips were always enterprising. It was a little scary since Amanda always seemed to talk Alana into buying things she normally wouldn’t. He never knew what to expect when they came home. But he had to admit that the outfits Alana bought did wonders for her figure, and Amanda had wonderful taste, especially when it came to Alana’s lingerie for the bedroom. Surprisingly, Amanda was always on her best behavior, and the stories she told them about her recent capers kept Alana laughing, a sound that made Duncan’s heart swell with pride. Likewise, Alana always made sure Amanda and Methos had her newest novel at the bedside when they stayed over. It was years before he found out she had been using Methos as an editor before sending her newest manuscript to her publishers. 

Alana wasn’t only beautiful on the outside, she had a good heart, and although he had promised himself he would remain stoic, Duncan felt a sob building up inside. He knew Methos had been watching him closely and wasn’t surprised when he took the rest of the pictures out of Duncan’s hand and turned him to lay his head on Methos’ shoulder as the sob escaped. 

Methos stayed silent as Duncan let the tears come, something Duncan hadn’t been able to do, even at her funeral. Once the moment passed and Duncan began to compose himself, Methos let him go and went in search for Kleenex. He returned a few minutes later and set a box on the end table where Duncan could easily reach them. Nodding his thanks, Duncan dried his eyes and blew his nose, then rose to dispose of them in the kitchen trash. When he returned Methos handed him the remaining pictures, leaving him with the option to finish going through them or placing them back in the box for later. 

“Thanks.” 

“You’d do the same for me,” Methos replied matter-of-factly. 

Duncan nodded. Methos was right. He sorted through the last pictures, treasuring each one as Alana aged gracefully, the final one when they celebrated her ninetieth birthday. He had taken care of her as she became feeble with age, grateful to celebrate every day they had together. 

Methos took the last picture from him. “You both look very happy.” 

“We were,” Duncan agreed sadly. “It’s going to take the roast at least a couple of more hours to cook and I’m tired. I think I’ll lie down until it’s ready.” 

Methos began putting the pictures away for him. “Good idea. I’ll set the timer.” 

Once that was completed, Methos followed him into the bedroom. Duncan pulled back the covers and stripped down to his briefs. Methos did the same, folding his clothes to lie on top of Duncan’s on the chair. Without a word they climbed into bed together and Methos took him in his arms. They laid like that while Duncan fell asleep, his head on Methos’ chest. 

When Duncan woke it was already dark outside. He smelled the roast and his stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Soundlessly, Duncan rose from the bed and went to the kitchen to check on dinner. Sometime while he slept Methos had gotten up and turned the oven to the proper setting to keep it warm. 

Silently, he went back into the bedroom and sat on the bed, looking down at his friend who was sound asleep beside him. Gently, he brushed Methos’ hair off his forehead and leaned down to kiss him lightly on the lips. He knew Methos would be with him as long as he was needed. Duncan still had to work through the pain. But with Methos by his side, using his strength to help him relive his time with Alana, Duncan realized it wasn't about death; it was about life: a lifetime of loving his soulmate -- something he thought would never be possible for him -- the love of the people who made up his family, Methos and Amanda, his new Watcher, Joe's great grandson, and others he still held dear from his past. 

He would continue to mourn Alana’s loss and the memories of her love, but now his life didn’t feel as cold and empty as it had when he woke that morning. 


End file.
